


When it Came to Him

by eniJai



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Noah Puckerman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eniJai/pseuds/eniJai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it came to Puck, Santana knew what to expect- a good time. Yet, when she offers the idea of a first date, why does Puck take it so seriously? They've hooked up a million times before. Why is labeling it "a date" make any difference?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When it Came to Him

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters represented.

They were sitting on a couch that looked like it belonged in a camper from the '70s, but at least the music was distant in this room, and there were less people. The party had been fun for Santana, and she had become completely smashed. Tired of dancing to the top 40, Puck led her into the den, a look of iciness crossing his face. The usual attire of the room was unrecognizable- with picture frames knocked down, beer cans and plastic cups cluttering the coffee table, and something sticky smeared on the carpet, it looked just like any other party house. The thought that a family actually lived here was humorous. The couch they sat on was clammy, but that didn't matter- she'd been in much more uncomfortable places when it came to Puck. Santana, ready for an intense make out session and maybe even then some, tried getting her sexy on. She let her fingers run through the one streak of hair that occupied Puck's head and giggled drunkenly to herself, letting her body lean heavily into his.

"Stop with the hair." Puck muttered, with a sense of finality. Usually he would see this as an opportunity to take advantage of Santana, but honestly, she didn't need to be drunk to be taken advantage of in the first place. Besides, he wasn't in the mood.

 

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"It'll be fun," she whispered, leaning against the window as he drove beside her, "I mean, if your sure you're okay with missing the, what is it, the championship dinner?"

"Yeah, championship game is Tuesday. But if you say this date is really important to you, I'm all for it." Puck glanced at the girl next to him, with a sly smile. Dates weren't really their thing, that was for the steady couples or people who were just starting to get to know each other. The two of them were in neither situation. It was funny because Puck knew everything about Santana that he had to know, but the idea of them being a steady couple was hysterical. Nothing could tie either of them down. Yet, a date was a start, and he couldn't help but feel a bit excited. He wondered where the sudden change of heart in Santana came from, and if he could just willingly agree to it. Yet, she sounded sincere. Was this the start of a real relationship? He didn't know if he could handle that either, but maybe he could if they eased into it. If they waded into the cold water until it just didn't feel cold anymore.

 

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"I said, stop with the hair."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I ruining your do?" Santana said, her words slightly slurred, but still she didn't remove her hand from Puck's head.

Puck ducked out from under her small hand and let it fall limply to her side, keeping the same stony expression he had worn all evening.

"What's up your ass?" Santana mumbled, but didn't back away from Puck. In contrast, she pushed herself even closer to him, so she was basically on his lap.

"Nothing, San. I'm actually kind of tired. Do you wanna head home?" It was true, he was tired. This wasn't the night he was expecting.

 

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"So, where to? Dinner and a movie?" The words sounded silly coming out of Puck's mouth, but he accepted them, as well as the start of whatever it was he was doing with Santana. They were, naturally, perfect for each other. They were both crazy, loved to have fun, loved the power they held in their hands. It was these similarities that stopped them from ever being an actual couple. But who knows, Puck could learn to live with that. Those similarities could bring them even closer together.

Santana laughed, "Dinner and a movie? That sounds like something from a sitcom. I was thinking about something a little more fun."

"What did you have in mind?"

 

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"Go home, already? But this was supposed to be our first date," Santana was whispering, her forehead up against Puck's hairline, her voice slow and sensual. She ran her tongue along the side of his ear playfully, and wrapped her arm around him.

He didn't loosen up to her, but rather turned roughly to look her in the eyes and spoke bluntly, "Honestly, I thought tonight was going to be special, Santana."

Santana smiled slyly, "It is special, babe," she said softly, attempting to lean in even closer, but Puck stopped her short.

He pulled away, forcing Santana's arms off of him completely, and he moved back against the arm rest of the couch so he could see her clearly. She was a mess. Her usual sleek hair looked dry and knotted, and her shirt was pulled up, displaying her pierced naval. Her jeans were tight, her shoes nonexistent, and her lipstick was smudged. But what Puck found threw him off the most was her expression. The look of determination, so naturally planted on her face, was something Puck thought Santana looked naked without. Of course he'd seen her drunk multiple times, but this was the first time he'd seen her like this, when he, himself was sober. She looked weak, truly and utterly hopeless. Not only that, but she also looked defeated. Like the world already won the battle, and she didn't even care.

"I thought tonight was going to mean something. Like, it was going to start something, Santana. Like we were going to become something." Puck forced out the words, without actually looking at her.

 

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They pulled up to the house, already able to hear the music pounding from inside.

"Are you sure this is what you wanna do?" Puck looked uneasy.

"Yeah, I heard it was going to be off the shit." Santana said, stepping out of the car. Puck followed reluctantly, a few feet behind his "date".

 

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Santana looked hurt, finally realizing that Puck was serious. He was sincerely angry, or at least upset. These were feelings she never had to deal with when it came to him.

"You honestly thought we were going to be going to dinner and a movie?" The thought was still funny to Santana; the idea of the two of them having casual conversation over a nice hot meal was odd. Wasn't it? That just wasn't the way they worked.

Yet, Puck nodded. "I thought we were going on an actual date, and call me crazy, but I was actually excited. I wanted to open the car door for you, to put my arm around you, to pay for your meal. I wanted to kiss you goodnight, to tell you that I loved you. I wanted to be normal for once. At first I was skeptical, but I talked myself into it. I don't want to be just these crazy party animals that just do it, for the sake of doing it. It's time for me to grow up, Santana. I've done a lot of thinking lately, ya know?"

But Santana wore a shocked expression, her mouth slightly ajar, "Did-did you just say that you loved me?"

Puck nodded, "And you might not even remember it in the morning. It's time for us to either be real, or be done. I can't waste my time wondering around, not knowing what direction to turn to."

Santana pulled her knees to her chest, not believing the words she was hearing. Her and Puck- actually together? Not just two people with open legs, but an actual commitment? The sound of it was rather strange.

"So?" Puck was still watching her intently, waiting whether to leave her behind or leave with her by his side.

Santana was still speechless, she knew change was inevitable, but it could at least be delayed. Relationships were all about romance, love, and she knew she wasn't ready for that. She was a slacker, and she knew it, not just about work, but in life. Yet, Puck was just like her. He was immature, without a care in the world, not worrying where tomorrow would bring him. So why was he ready to move on? Weren't they comfortable where they were now? Weren't they perfectly fine being each other's midnight snacks rather than the gourmet meal?

Puck could read the expression on Santana's face. "That's what I thought." And he stood up and walked away, leaving Santana curled up on the crumbling couch all alone. He had outgrown her.

But that didn't mean she'd never mature, and find him when she was ready.

 

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"Did you just say 'date'?" he was rather shocked at her word choice.

"Uh, yeah, I figured we were in need of our first date, don't you think?"

"Well, I guess I never thought about it."


End file.
